


Falling From the Penthouse

by butterflycell



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: 2x07: Sucker Punch, Angst, Bottom!Harvey, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflycell/pseuds/butterflycell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Harvey's in a bad place. The last time I saw him like this, things did not end well.” Jessica moved smoothly back around her desk and pulled open the middle drawer. She pulled out a key and swipe card and walked straight back up to Mike, coming right into his personal space and pressing the items hard into his hand. “Whatever you said to him, it's on you to fix this.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The trial run is over, PearsonHardman is no longer under attack and even Tanner has let go of his choke-hold on Harvey's career. So why doesn't this feel like a win? Set between 2x07: Sucker Punch and 2x08: Rewind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling From the Penthouse

**Author's Note:**

> A huge, HUGE thank-you to **luvinjrandsmoke** and **dietpunkfics** for their beta skills and cheerleading. This fic has been sitting half written since 2x07 aired, and dietpunkfics has been invaluable for keeping the realism at certain points.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it. I'll leave you with a key line from the end of 2x07:
> 
>  _"What I_ know _is that if you take this thing to trial, it's going to cost us all a hell of a lot more than money."_

Mike would admit that he was pissed. Even after managing to get a few hours sleep, he was still angry. He'd assumed his irritation would be gone by the following day, but instead it was still simmering away. He was just glad that he hadn't seen Harvey at all, let alone had to speak to him.  
  
He'd been struggling for _days_ with the Tanner documents and he knew he'd done the right thing in looking for leverage. Whether or not Hardman had used whatever he'd found in the best of ways, Mike wasn't sure – but that wasn't the point.  
  
The point was that Tanner had dropped his demand for Harvey's license to be removed and the whole thing had been settled without any more damage to the already fractious atmosphere of the firm. Harvey had already lost Donna as his assistant in this whole mess; he didn't need to lose her as a friend too. Whatever damage had been done already was repairable, with time, but he was certain that anything more and they'd never recover.  
  
If Harvey, wanted to pretend this whole thing would've just blown over, then _fine_. He could carry straight on and bury his head in the sand until everything he claimed to care about was shattered and broken around him. See if Mike gave a shit anymore.  
  
He slammed his desk drawer closed in a brief fit of frustration, before sighing, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard that he saw stars. It had been a long, tiring, shitty week and all he really wanted to do was get this stupid file finished so he could go out and get completely wasted. He might even pick someone up for a quick back-alley fuck. He just had to finish off the due diligence preparation for the file he and Harvey had been working before the in-house trial.  
  
It was getting late, probably too late, but Mike was past the point of caring. He'd spent pretty much the whole day avoiding anyone and everyone, determined to finish this thing off. It was a Friday, the whole firm was in a lull and he just wanted to beat this thing into submission so he could have his whole weekend free to get this out of his system. The last thing he needed was to turn up on Monday morning and for Harvey know how much this had gotten to him – because Mike was pretty sure that by Monday, Harvey would've all but forgotten it.  
  
He snapped the finished notes closed about half an hour later. It was now a little after ten. If he hurried, he could be home, changed and at a club before midnight. Checking his watch, he did the mental calculations for his timings, wondering whether he could pick dinner up or not – or maybe he should just grab a burger from the diner down the road - only to skid to a rather abrupt halt, nearly walking into Jessica.  
  
She was standing in the middle of the corridor, arms folded and a look on her face that had haunted Mike only a few weeks ago. She was beyond furious.  
  
Mike glanced to one side, realising they were beside her office and the door was open. He reluctantly walked inside, clutching surreptitiously at his bag as she closed the door forcefully behind him and strode round to her desk. Mike made himself meet her gaze, no matter how much it made his heart hammer in his throat.  
  
“I need you to tell me exactly what it is that you found on Tanner, and I need to know why you went to Daniel Hardman and not to me.” Her voice dripped with a venomous calm. It was the even, confident tone that Harvey used – Mike wondered briefly if this kind of situation was where he'd learnt it from.  
  
“I didn't come to you because it was Mr. Hardman who found something, not me, and he was hardly going to tell a rookie associate what he was thinking.” _That_ came out a little more sharply than he'd intended.  
  
Jessica stilled completely and he instantly wished he'd kept his mouth shut, because now a whole flood of things he wanted to say were bursting upwards. He bit his tongue and tried to wait out the oncoming storm. If he skipped going home, he could get thoroughly hammered a little sooner.  
  
“You are skating on very thin ice, Mr. Ross.” She said quietly. Mike looked away sharply. “I don't know what you're doing, but I will find out.”  
  
“I'm not doing anything!” He snapped, unable to stop himself. The idea that he could be actively working against her and Harvey was ludicrous. “I was trying to stop Harvey from losing maybe the most important person in his life over something that could be avoided.”  
  
“I would remind you who you're speaking to.” She stood up slowly and stalked around the desk towards him. Mike grit his teeth and raised his chin slightly. “Donna committed a _crime_ , and putting her on the stand to testify to that is part of the course.”  
  
“Yes, it is, which is why I convinced her to come, but what happened to her was a _persecution_. She's already paid the price – she lost her job and she's facing time in jail. She didn't deserve _that_.” Mike replied stiffly. If he felt partly responsible for what had happened to her, it was entirely fair – but he wasn't the only person to blame. _Everybody_ was and it was about time people accepted that.  
  
“What happened in that trial was preparation for what was to come.” She countered. She was standing only a few feet away – just close enough to keep Mike slightly off balance.  
  
“That trial had nothing to do with preparation.” Mike said calmly, taking a deep breath to ease his racing heartbeat. “It was about making the partners like Harvey.”  
  
What he meant was that it was about making the partners like _her_ , and he knew Jessica had read between the lines. Her expression darkened and all Mike could think was that he was going to be fired before he left this office, so he might as well get off his chest what he'd been trying to say to Harvey.  
  
“The only reason you need to get them on your side now is that two of you didn't even entertain the thought that Hardman would come back.” Mike frowned slightly. He knew only the barest bones of the situation, but it didn't take a genius to work out what was going on. “If you had, you wouldn't have treated some of the other partners the way you have. Corporate law is about egos and cockfights, and someone as smart as you would know that. What's happening now is down to Harvey and Tanner, and you and Daniel Hardman – the rest of the firm is just collateral.”  
  
His words drifted on an achingly still silence. Jessica was unreadable, her expression so closed that it made Harvey look like a free spirit. He was ready for the blow. He was ready for the words that would send him out of this office and back to the life he'd hated so much.  
  
What he didn't expect was for Jessica to take a couple of steps back and to look at him with something like a slow understanding of an old problem.  
  
“I'm starting to understand why Harvey picked you.” She said finally. She looked away, out of the window, for a long moment. Mike was about to back slowly from the room when she turned her eyes back to him, fixing him in place. “You're just like he was, so I think you'll understand when I tell you that he has a certain piece of his history that you almost certainly identify with.”  
  
Mike said nothing, not daring to hope that he might have just won something akin to grudging respect. He held his breath, waiting for Jessica to speak again.  
  
“Harvey's in a bad place. The last time I saw him like this, things did not end well.” She moved smoothly back around her desk and pulled open the middle drawer. She pulled out a key and swipe card and walked straight back up to him, coming right into his personal space and pressing the items hard into his hand. “Whatever you said to him, it's on you to fix this.”  
  
She gave him a look that told him he was only a breath away from complete and utter destruction. He swallowed awkwardly and nodded, pocketing what she'd handed him. He paused, frozen again by the look she was fixing him with for a long, long moment.  
  
He managed to stumble backwards, breaking the spell she had him under before collecting himself enough to turn and walk from her office. He went straight to the elevators, trying to ignore the burn of her stare on his back. It wasn't until the doors closed and he was hidden that he let out a long, shaky breath, slumping back against the wall behind him. _Shit_.  
  
He was trying to think, to come up with any situation in which he wouldn't end up being fucked over by Harvey or Jessica or Louis or Hardman. No matter what he did now, he'd gotten himself involved. He thought he'd picked his side already, but apparently not. Damn Harvey and his god-damned god complex.  
  
By the time he was walking out of the elevator and across the lobby, he knew he was going to do what Jessica asked. He knew because, deep down, he knew that he was partly to blame for this. He'd written the road-map for Hardman to settle the case, to go against Jessica and Harvey – that can't have looked good to either of them. He couldn't go around calling the 'grown-ups' out on their lack of responsibility and then not accept his own. He wasn't that much of a hypocrite. Besides, what Jessica said - and the fact that she'd slipped him keys to Harvey's home - had scared him.  
  
He hurried across the deserted plaza, pulling his helmet on and unlocking his bike in a smooth practised routine. He wheeled into the traffic, glad for the lull between civilised evening and hot blooded night-time. The last thing he needed on his mind was weaving in and out of taxis full of people off to enjoy their Friday evenings.  
  
The wind felt good against his face, some of his anger draining away with the exercise and the chill. His head felt clearer already, but he wasn't sure where to start.  
  
It took him somewhere around half and hour to get to Harvey's building. Even as he was locking his bike up to railings outside, he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to find. Without knowing what he was walking into, he couldn't prepare himself and, in his eternal experience, that never lead to anything good. Harvey was unpredictable at the best of times.  
  
He tried to compose himself and he pushed his way into the building, giving the doorman and quick nod. He didn't stop to talk, just hurried to the elevator bank and rode the nearest one all the way to the penthouse. He paused a little then, having to force himself to step out and into the corridor. It seems like a Herculean effort to cross the distance between the elevator and Harvey's front door, but he somehow managed.  
  
Letting himself in didn't feel right, not yet. He debated it for barely a moment before knocking firmly. Nothing. He knocked again, a little louder. Still nothing. Several minutes passed before he knocked again and the condo beyond stayed silent. Reluctantly, he pulled out the key Jessica had given him and let himself in.  
  
The hallway was dark, as was the living area beyond. It was completely silent. As he took a few steps in, the hardwood floor creaked slightly, making him cringe. There came no yell of anger or grumble of sleepy surprise. There was nothing. With a little more bravery, he walked all the way into the condo, looking around. He glanced towards the bedroom, but he didn't need to go any further to know that Harvey wasn't in there. Of course he wasn't.  
  
With a sigh, he sat on the arm of one of Harvey's ridiculously expensive couches. Expensive, but comfortable as all hell. He was half tempted to claim defeat and just curl up then and there – but something was starting to eat away at his conscience and he was pretty sure it was fear for Harvey's well being. Instead of giving into the perfectly padded leather, he pulled out his phone and dialled Ray's. He answered on the second ring.  
  
“ _Mike?_ ” He sounded worried.  
  
“Hi, Ray.” He tried to sound at least a little comforting.  
  
“ _Is everything okay?_ ”  
  
“Yeah... well, maybe. I'm not sure. I need to find Harvey... I think he's going to get himself into something bad tonight.” If there was anyone else on the face of the Earth who had noticed the changes in Harvey's behaviour of late, it was Ray.  
  
“ _Thank God._ ” Ray sighed heavily. “ _I dropped him at a high end place in midtown about an hour ago. Where are you now?_ ”  
  
“I'm at Harvey's. What did the place look like?” Mike passed a hand over his face, pinching slightly at the bridge of his nose.  
  
“ _Not the kind of place Harvey should be, even at his best. Hang tight, I'll pick you up in ten._ ” Mike heard keys jingling in the background, stairs being traversed.  
  
“Okay, I'll meet you out front. Thanks for this, Ray.” Mike said, a deep sigh tugging at his chest. He hung up after that and Mike was left reeling. He wanted to assume the best and the worst at the same time. This was _Harvey_... surely he wasn't in some shady club for anything other than work? Surely.  
  
But then, Harvey was the man who never lost control, never broke a sweat. Only once had Mike seen that façade crack, and that had been a tense time for everyone. He'd come back from that – he'd fixed the case, won Clifford his freedom back and went straight back to being top of the world. He couldn't just fix this... and this was so, _so_ much worse.  
  
He allowed himself a moment to breathe before getting back to his feet. He walked straight back out into the hall, locking up behind himself. The ride back down to the lobby went by in a blur and he was trudging across the entrance towards the door without really thinking. He completely missed the first two times the doorman called out to him. On the third yell, he whipped his head around.  
  
“What?” He blurted out, startled.  
  
“I asked if you were Mr. Specter's associate.” He frowned slightly. Mike took him in, a man in his mid fifties, a face that could be both friendly and fearsome depending on who he was talking to. Mike vaguely remembered that he was called Clive.  
  
“Yes, sorry. Clive, isn't it?” Mike said, walking over and doing his best to look like he was supposed to be there. He held out a hand and the other man eventually shook it.  
  
“Harvey left about an hour ago. Is everything all right with him?” Clive shoved his hands in his pockets and Mike felt a pang of sadness at the thought that this guy, who saw Harvey maybe twice a day, had noticed that something was wrong and was worried enough to ask after him.  
  
“Yeah, everything's fine. There's just a stressful case on at the moment.” Mike used the smile he'd learnt from Harvey and Clive eased somewhat. “Hey, look, I know this is a bit of an ask, but I have to go meet him somewhere – is there anyway I can bring my bike in here? I don't like to leave it out on the street overnight.”  
  
“Sure, of course you can. There's room behind my desk.” Clive smiled and they headed over to the door. He held it open as Mike dealt with his lock and hurried back inside. By the time it was safely stashed behind Clive's station, Mike's phone was buzzing with a text from Ray. He was waiting outside.  
  
“Looks like my ride's here. Thanks again for my bike though!” He shook Clive's hand again and shot him a salute as he did his best to breeze out of the building. Reality settled heavily once more as he purposefully walked up to the passenger door and slid into the front. He wanted to acknowledge the fact that Ray was there as a friend, not an employee. Neither of them were doing this for a pay check.  
  
Ray nodded to him, his lips pressed together grimly. The drive was awkward and tense. The only consolation was that the tension wasn't _between_ them but _around_ them. They were both lost in their concern for Harvey.  
  
When Ray pulled up at a corner, they sat in silence for a moment. Mike was looking down the street. It didn't look anything out of the ordinary, filled with classy bars and clubs and restaurants, nothing too unusual. If the people walking into some of the underground places looked ever so slightly shady, it's in a way that Mike knows from somewhere... but can't pinpoint.  
  
“I know this isn’t strictly any of my business,” Mike glanced over at Ray, who was gripping the steering wheel at the bottom, knuckles pale from pressure, “but Harvey had cash on him. A lot of cash.”  
  
“Are we talking a couple of hundred?” Mike hoped, already knowing that it was a longshot at best.  
  
“Think _thousands_.” Ray shook his head in disbelief, chewing slightly at the inside of his cheek.  
  
“Shit... what the fuck is he up to?” Mike covered his face with his hands, trying not to think the worst of what was happening inside one of these clubs. They were silent for a long few minutes. The thumping of the bass speakers started to penetrate the serenity of the car.  
  
“Mike, you should've seen him when I picked him up. It like he was...” Ray gestured towards his face, struggling for words. Mike hadn't seen him look so wrung out since the trial the year before. But his heart plunged at what Ray was getting at. Mike had seen the beginnings of that expression in the conference room, though he hadn't acknowledged it at the time. He was too busy being pissed to care.  
  
“Like he was dead inside?” Mike finished, gently. He looked at Ray, who nodded slowly. “Jessica said he'd been like this before.”  
  
“Something happened about five years ago, Donna told me to be on alert and to keep her updated.” Ray frowned slightly. “It got really bad. It was terrifying - you don't expect someone like Harvey to spiral that far.”  
  
Mike really didn't want to know what he meant by that. Instead, he focused on what would help him now, what Ray could tell him for sure. “Is this how it started?”  
  
“Yeah.” Ray said firmly. He shifted his hands, staring at the dashboard as if it held the answer to what the whole thing meant. Mike turned to watch out of the window again. It was starting to get late, more people streaming out of the restaurants into the bars or clubs. Taxis pulled past and up to curbs, painfully glamorous clients stretching out of them and making their way to whichever door took their fancy. It wasn't hard to imagine Harvey fitting in with these people.  
  
“Right. Okay.” Mike rubbed his hands hard against his thighs, trying to spur himself on, to build up his confidence enough to slide into the tide outside the safety of the car. “I'm going to need you to stick around, within a few minutes away, at least until I know what's happening. He's been in there a while...”  
  
Mike was beginning to understand what Jessica had meant. He was like Harvey... Harvey had been like Mike, fucked up and into all the wrong things. He felt a little sick at the creeping surety that 'things' meant drugs – and somehow weed just didn't seem like Harvey's style.  
  
He sighed heavily and let Ray point out the place Harvey had gone into earlier. _La Langue D'Argent_ , The Silver Tongue, very fucking fitting. Mike scowled and got out of the car, letting this new burst of anger fuel his walk down the street.  
  
As Mike got closer, he drew himself up as straight as possible, smoothing his shirt and tie down and putting into practice everything Harvey had ever taught him about putting across the right persona. When he got to the doorman, by passing the line starting to form, he even managed to keep his litany of terrified cursing internalised.  
  
“Whoa.” The burly guy in the smart black outfit cleared Mike by a good couple of inches. He put a hand up, ready to push Mike away. “Can't you see there's a line here?”  
  
“Mr. Specter told me to meet him here, I'm his associate.” Mike raised his chin a little, as he had when facing down Jessica. The doorman fixed him with a look before checking a page at the back of his list. Mike glanced down and saw Harvey's name there. The problem seemed to be entirely with him. “I know this isn't the done thing, but this is time sensitive. I need to get to Mr. Specter now. Do you really want to be responsible for the loss of an eight-figure merger deal?”  
  
The man was silent for a long time before tilting his head slightly to speak into a mic hooked to his jacket. He told the guy on the other end that there was something coming through for Mr. Specter then nodded and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Mike kept his composure, nodded back and strode passed him.  
  
He found himself swallowed into a whole new world, buried under the sleek buildings outside. The throbbing music was already filtering down the corridor he found himself in before taking stairs down. He passed by another security guard who nodded to him briefly, before reaching a desk where a third guy stood.  
  
“You're the guy for Mr. Specter?” He asked, Mike nodding again. He was only just beginning to wonder just how Harvey had become so influential here. The guy scanned something on a computer screen before looking up. “He's in a private room. Cross the main floor, hand this to the guy on the staircase,” he handed over a silver token, “and he's in the room at the very end of the balcony.”  
  
“Thank-you.” He tried not to be too goofy about it, tried to make himself sound just like Harvey. For the most part, he was pretty sure he'd succeeded – how else would he have gotten this far?  
  
He turned away from the guy and gripped tightly as the cool metal coin that served as his pass to the private areas. It was roughly the same size and weight as the old silver dollar coins, but it was completely smooth and polished to a high shine. One side had a smart number seven engraved and enamelled so it stood out as black on the metal. He sighed slightly and turned his attention back to crossing the room.  
  
He pushed open the glass doors beside the entrance desk and was immediately hit by the familiar sensation of overwhelming bass. Yes, this was far more up market than anywhere Mike had ever found himself - but the sound and sensation was the same. He found himself standing on the edge of a huge, open area. In the centre was the dance floor, already full of the same glamorous people he'd seen outside. Dotted around were booths in supple black leather and polished chrome.  
  
On the opposite side of the room, he could see a lavish bar that occupied a good half of the wall and, next to it, a cordoned off area. There was more seating there, though it was secluded from the throng in the main area - but more importantly, there was a wide, curving staircase that lead up to the balcony. Mike looked up and saw a number of doors, each a large pane of frosted glass in a black wood frame. The numbers at head height were in the same style as the token.  
  
The atmosphere was overwhelming. He'd barely stepped ten feet into the room before he'd had someone brushing against him and a waitress offer him a drink. He declined them both and started to edge his way around the floor. He found it hard to take his eyes off the balcony. There were women and men coming and going from a couple of the rooms, wait-staff slinking along with bottles of expensive liquor and trays of glasses and mixers.  
  
He watched, mystified, as a woman in her early twenties reached the top of the stairs. Her dress was exquisite, hugging her figure from her breasts to her knees in a shimmering black material. Her hair was knotted high, leaving her neck and shoulders completely exposed. Mike came to a halt as she moved. She was utterly mesmerising.  
  
That is, she was up until the point that she pushed open door number seven and Mike caught a glimpse of more girls within. He didn't see Harvey. That seemed to spur him on, to help him ignore the music starting to rattle at his sternum and the people brushing hands along his shoulders and sides. The only thing he could think about doing was getting Harvey the fuck out of here. Something about this place was making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.  
  
He practically pushed his way over to the security guard, holding up the token for him to see clearly. He was given a cursory look up and down before he was waved through. If Mike had to hold onto the banister as he climbed the stairs, he put it down to trying to look like he belonged – not like his knees were threatening to collapse from under him at any moment. His worry about what he was going to find was starting to build up again.  
  
He took a breath as he reached the top and tried to walk as calmly as he could. He passed by the other doors, ignoring the shrieks of laughter and strains of music that came through, muffled as they were. He glanced out over the dance floor, and paused for just a moment to marvel at the sight of hundreds of bodies pressed together and writhing in time to the music. It was all so much more graceful than what he was used to it. Any other time, on any other occasion, he'd would've found it beautiful.  
  
But then he caught sight of the woman in the black dress as she came out of Harvey's room and his head was right back where it needed to be. He closed the rest of the distance at a faster pace, pausing for only a moment to take another breath before pushing his way into room number seven.  
  
The music was slow and hypnotic, the bass loud and melody weaving around. It filled the room like a tide. The space was about half the size of Harvey's office, a long, low couch wrapping around the section farthest away from the door. The space in between scattered with low tables and matching stools, strangers littered across them in various states of inebriation.  
  
Glasses and beer bottles lay abandoned on the table surfaces, several girls lying slumped and hazy against them, another two girls already wasted enough to be dancing a strip tease on top of one. It seemed to be all for their own entertainment, as they were far from being the object of attention. That right was reserved for those on the couch. The hierarchy in the room was painfully obvious, and the men there were holding court.  
  
It was that which _really_ set Mike's blood boiling. Okay, so he was angry again. Really _fucking_ angry – and apparently he ran best when he was pissed. So Harvey was right about something.  
  
He edged his way around the girls, but most of them were too concerned with knocking back a drink or snorting a line to care. He didn't really need to get closer, he'd already worked out where Harvey was.  
  
Sitting there, in the middle of the couch, he had a girl draped across him, another to one side. There were four others who looked almost exactly like him – all dressed in their finest as if it were a normal bar, all laughing and leering like it was a locker room or the local Hooters. One of the guys was already half undone, the girl on his lap swaying awkwardly and out of time as she fumbled at his pants, as he egged her on. Something about him – his actions, his expression – made him think unerringly of Trevor.  
  
Mike dragged his eyes away, focused his attention.  
  
Harvey sat sprawled out across the black leather seat, arms spread along the back. He'd changed into a different suit – a three piece, light grey, with a charcoal tie. The jacket was slung on the seat next to him. His tie was pulled open just a little, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Along with the way his head was leant back, throat exposed and eyes closed in contentment, Mike would've said he was stunning. Harvey was attractive in pretty much every situation Mike had ever seen him in, but this?  
  
The only thing that ruined this was the the sight of the low table directly infront of Harvey – a physical barrier between the two of them. The glass surface was dusty , sharp marks like tracks to lead from Harvey to a substantial pile in the middle. A hundred dollar bill – could he _be_ any more obnoxiously wealthy? - lay curled to one side, next to what could only be his black American Express card. The titanium glinted eerily in the half-light.  
  
He was hypnotised for a long moment, his mind not really ready to digest what he was seeing. When he looked back at Harvey, he felt something inside him shatter. This was so, so wrong.  
  
“Hey.” Mike snapped his head round to look at one of the other guys, the one who was halfway towards the free porn show. Seeing him properly, he didn't really look anything like Trevor - with the exception of the smug look on his face. Mike knew that expression _far_ too well. The girl in his lap shifted and looked round at him, cocking her head to one side and trying her best to look annoyed but only really managed pathetic. “Who the hell are you?”  
  
“I'm here for Harvey.” He said calmly, trying to fight down the urge to punch him straight in his smug, smacked out face. A slow grin curled on his lips.  
  
“I didn't know you still swung that way, Harv.” He reached a foot out and nudged at Harvey's leg. Harvey made a noise and slowly brought his head up, blinking at Mike around the side of the girl. His eyes were glazed with alcohol and drugs, but something like recognition snapped in for a moment. “At least you still have good taste.”  
  
Harvey looked over at the other man with an easy grin. He laughed slightly and eased the girl off to one side. He ignored the look she gave him and leaned forwards, picking up the AMX card neatly as he edged forwards, elbows on his knees. Mike watched, frozen on the spot as Harvey dragged a chunk of the cocaine towards him and ordered it into three lines, cutting them in sharp, rapid taps that hit Mike like gun fire. He did it as easily as Mike had once rolled joints.  
  
Harvey flicked the card away, snagging the curled bill in the same movement and twisting it neatly. Mike realised, sluggishly and with a wave of something like nausea, that the quick, deft movements of his fingers were something he'd practised and relegated to second nature. He did it with a cool efficiency, his movements sharper than usual, and just a little sickening because of it.  
  
Mike clenched his fists, torn between dragging him away and watching, mystified, as Harvey held the tube to one nostril, finger pressing the other closed. With a short, sharp movement, he inhaled the first half of the line, swapping the tube to the other side smoothly and repeating the movement on the second half. He took down the other two in the same fashion.  
  
It had taken only a handful of seconds, all told.  
  
Mike swallowed against the threat of bile in his throat and tried not let his façade break as Harvey slumped back against the couch and smiled, utterly blissed out if that sigh was anything to go by. He knew he was frowning, staring at his boss as if he was a complete stranger, and the other guy was talking - but Mike wasn't paying any attention. He didn't realise anyone else had moved until one of the girls sauntered up to him, trying to drape herself around him.  
  
The feel of a body against him was like a static shock, snapping him out of the trance he'd slipped into. Firmly, he pushed her away, ignoring her pout as she slunk off to entertain herself elsewhere. The girl Harvey had displaced had claimed him again, clearly having decided that he wasn't paying her anywhere near enough attention. It made Mike feel a little sick to see the way she pawed at him, but it was worse to see Harvey's hand move to slid over the bare skin of her back, moving round to rub and squeeze at her breasts.  
  
She was making soft noises, urging him on and Harvey was taking them. He leaned them forwards, groping towards the table until he snagged a pill and brought it to the girls mouth. He pushed it in with his fingers and watched as she swallowed. He was shifting where he sat, hands moving constantly until they settled on her thighs, one of them moving up and under her skirt as she started to writhe against him, out of time with the still throbbing music that was hitting Mike deep in the chest.  
  
He looked away as Harvey leaned forwards to lick at her neck. The other men on the couch ignored him as they carried on drinking, knocking back pills and cutting lines as the girls around them fawned and pouted for attention. He watched as the guy who'd spoken to him urged the girl in his lap to snort a line that even Mike could tell was too roughly cut. The man laughed as she pressed her hand uselessly to her nose and dragged her into a hard and dubious looking kiss.  
  
He looked away and forced himself to take a mental inventory of the room.  
  
The table held a variety of glasses and ten or eleven empty liquor bottles. Scattered in between were empty plastic bags, pills lying inside and around as a free-for-all and the pile of coke sitting in the middle. Harvey had been here for only a couple of hours, but who knew who he'd talked to, who he'd trusted what with. Mike, for one, wouldn't have said a word of anything remotely important to any of these guys, let alone the slick piece of shit who reminded him too much of Trevor – but what if Harvey _had_? How did they even know each other?  
  
He closed his eyes and fought down the panic. What was done was done, all he could do was damage control – at least until he could get more information.  
  
“Harvey.” He said sharply, opening his eyes to fix a stern look on his boss. He was lying back again, the girl on him running fingers everywhere and attacking his neck like it was candycoated. Harvey made no indication that he'd heard him. He let the anger well up before trying again. “ _Harvey_.”  
  
He watched Harvey's eyes snap open again, this time a little pissed off. He stayed where he was, looking over at him as he tilted his head to let the girl keep going. Mike tried to ignore the fact that her hand was determinedly making its way into his pants. Mike met his eyes with all the ferocity he could muster. All he wanted was to get Harvey the fuck out of here and to dry him out. He wanted – no, he _needed_ to fix this.  
  
“What do you want, rookie?” He asked finally. His voice was surprisingly clear the only sign of any impairment being the slightly overly-clipped words.  
  
“It's time to go.” He said, standing his ground. He watched Harvey's jaw clench, his expression turning dark. Mike knew he was on very thin ice here. He tried to ignore the looks he was starting to get from the other men, all of them picking up on Harvey's irritation.  
  
Carefully, Harvey pried the girl off himself and straightened up. Mike watched as he neatly rolled down his sleeves and tightened his tie. He watched as Harvey slowly put himself back together before getting to his feet and pulling on his jacket. Somewhere, very deep down and a mile away from the terror still seizing him, Mike marvelled a little at how little he'd had to say to get Harvey out of here. Of course, the real price of this was yet to come. First, he'd get them as far from here as he could.  
  
“Sorry, Julian, but it looks like I'm needed elsewhere.” Harvey buttoned his jacket and smoothed down the material. He picked up his wallet and phone, pocketing them smoothly but otherwise leaving everything on the table. The girl from his lap had already recovered from her displeasure at being shaken off and was settling herself down to snort a line prepared for her by the next guy over. Mike kept his eyes pointedly on Harvey, ignoring the arrogant smirk on 'Julian's face. The only sign that Harvey wasn't himself was that glassy, distant look in his eyes.  
  
“Have fun, Harv. Next time, I think you need to share.” Harvey didn't respond, his eyes fixed on Mike before he brushed past and lead the way out. The music welled up and threatened to push its way into the space forming between him and Harvey, but as he followed, he didn't look back.  
  
The intimate, transient throbbing of the music in the room was replaced by the tight, clinical dub-step on the dance-floor. It shook away some of the close, hazy feeling of room number seven and Mike couldn't have been more thankful of it.  
  
The walk out of the club was far faster than the entry. As they left the main room, Harvey tossed his coin token behind the security desk, not pausing as Mike fumbled to do the same. They walked without a word down the corridor, ignoring the groups of people passing in the other direction. Mike watched Harvey carefully as he climbed the stairs, noticing just how tightly his hand gripped at the railing on the way up.  
  
When they emerged into the bitter night air, Mike made a point to catch the doorman's eye. It was oddly gratifying as he received a nod in reply. Mike checked his phone then, firing off a quick text to Ray before following Harvey as he headed down the street in the direction of the corner Mike had gotten out of the car.  
  
About halfway down the street, he saw Harvey stumble slightly, swaying to one side as he caught his balance. Mike said nothing, _did_ nothing, feeling a vicious satisfaction bite deep into his chest. He stayed a few paces behind as Harvey carried on, his pace slowing with each step until, finally, Mike grabbed his arm tightly and guided him firmly to where Ray was waiting for them. He folded Harvey roughly into the back of the car and, by the time Mike climbed in the other side, Harvey's head was lolled awkwardly to one side, his eyes closed – but at least he was breathing.  
  
“Back to his?” Ray asked, meeting Mike's eyes in the rearview mirror. Mike paused for a long moment, turning to look at Harvey as he thought. Slowly, he shook his head.  
  
“No, my place, please, Ray.” Ray nodded in reply and pulled away from the curb, slipping easily into the traffic.  
  
Mike looked back at Harvey and, as his anger and bitterness finally began to seep away, he was left feeling hollow. Harvey wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed break down so stunningly. He was supposed to have people who loved him, who saw when he was in trouble and pulled him out of it.  
  
He suppressed the sudden, painful urge to just reach out and take a hold of him, of his hand, his leg – anything – and clenched his fists tightly instead. He tore his eyes away, staring out of the window and New York passed them by.  
  
The drive was tense and a little awkward, but they were finally back at Mike's building. Without a word being said, Ray was at the car door, helping Mike get Harvey out and upright. Between them, they managed to rouse him long enough that they weren't carrying dead weight up four flights, but it was a close call. They had to sit him down on the stairs a couple of times for fear of dropping him.  
  
When they finally got into Mike's apartment, they let him fall onto the bed, both panting a little with the exertion.  
  
“Did you leave your bike at Harvey's building?” Ray asked finally, straightening up and twisting to stretch out his back. Mike nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck.  
  
“Yeah, the doorman let be put it behind the desk.” Mike rubbed at his face, exhaustion beginning to set in.  
  
“If you like, I can bring it round first thing in the morning.” Ray glanced at Harvey as he spoke. “It'll give me a chance to check in on him too.”  
  
“Sure, of course.” Mike nodded and followed as Ray headed to the door. “Thanks for everything tonight. I'll try and smooth stuff over if he brings it up tomorrow.”  
  
“I get the feeling he won't remember all that much of the car ride.” Ray grimaced and exchanged a final look with Mike before heading off down the corridor. Mike sighed heavily and closed the door, leaning his forehead against the cool wood for a moment.  
  
He gave himself a couple of minutes to calm down and collect his thoughts. He had a plan – or at least the foundations of one. He turned himself, leaning back as he surveyed his apartment. It was a bit of a tip, if he was being honest. All the food he had in was left-over take-out, his laundry hadn't been done for a couple of weeks and his good bed clothes were currently in the pile.  
  
All in all, it was more or less how it had been before he met Harvey, which was, at the moment, a good thing. He sighed again, rolling his shoulders as he pushed away from the door and went over to Harvey. He watched him for a moment, looking suddenly small and broken apart, and it was with gentle hands that he eased him out of his jacket and shoes before coaxing him up the bed and pulling his tie free.  
  
He loosened his cuffs and the top button before opening the vest and freeing first one arm and then the other, rolling Harvey as he did so. He was moving weakly, either protesting of helping – Mike couldn't tell. He felt another pang of sadness and fought the instinct to lie down and curl up behind him, holding him as he fell asleep... but the chances of Harvey waking up and being at all happy about that was minimal.  
  
Instead, he fetched the trash can from the other side of the room and left it within easy reach. As for himself, he stripped down to his undershirt and boxers before brushing his teeth and lying down on the sofa. He highly doubted he'd get much sleep at all – not that he'd been planning on it anyway.  
  
With a sigh, he tugged the blanket Grammy made him round his shoulders and turned into the sofa. He closed his eyes and focused on the familiar sounds of his dodgy little apartment.  
  
\--  
  
The first thing Harvey was aware of was harsh, bright sunlight. He screwed his eyes up against it, against the pounding pain in the base of his skull and the stinging in his sinuses. His mouth was dry, along with his entire throat, but he had the distinct impression that if he tried to drink it wouldn't end well.  
  
Everything felt wrong. Or rather, everything felt strange. There was a slow, niggling realisation dawning on him that he wasn't in his own bed. He jolted awake, pushing himself upright and immediately wincing at the light again. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes and eased them open again. Where the _fuck_ was he?  
  
The sheets he was lying on were soft, but threadbare – old and worn with years upon years of use. The mattress sagged in the middle, the frame creaking as he shifted to get a better look of the room he was in. He was starting to recognise it now; the hand knitted blanket across the couch, the piles upon piles of books on the shelves, the coffee table covered in case files.  
  
He eased himself to the end of the bed, realising he was still wearing his suit pants and dress shirt. He glanced to the side, finding his jacket, vest and tie draped over a chair. He let his eyes follow the line up and they settled on the painting on the wall above the table. A panda.  
  
 _Fuck_.  
  
The apartment was quiet around him and he eased himself to his feet, stumbling sideways into the wall almost immediately and clutching at it. He stayed for a moment, closing his eyes again until his head stopped spinning. It took a while, but he regained his balance and pushed away. He made his way over to the kitchenette, throwing open cupboards until he found a glass.  
  
He turned on the tap, filled the glass and took an immediate gulp – only to spit it straight back out. He'd run the cold tap, but the water was tepid at best, a metallic after taste lingering on the back of his tongue. He spat again, trying to get rid of it.  
  
It was only then that he realised that he was alone. He was in Mike's apartment and Mike was very conspicuously absent. He glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty. His immediate thought was that Mike must be running errands and only once he'd entertained that notion did he focus on the fact that he was there and not his condo.  
  
He was there, in Mike's apartment. Hazy memories were starting to form, just enough for him to piece together his path 'home' the night before. He shook himself and headed into the bathroom, stumbling a little as his foot connected with the unexpected step up. He swore under his breath and limped across the room to the shower. He had to haul at the handle to turn it on and he let it run for a good five minutes before realising it wasn't going to heat up at all.  
  
His growing frustration burst from him in a growl and he slammed it off, sitting heavily on the side of the bath to try and get a hold of himself. He rubbed at his eyes again, his head throbbing as he sank well and truly into his hangover. He finally forced himself back to his feet, determined to get out of there before Mike showed up again. He wasn't ready to have _that_ conversation yet.  
  
He took a piss before washing his hands and splashing more tepid, metallic water on his face. He rubbed sharply at his temples and swept a hand back through his hair before looking around for a towel. The only one he could find was a light beige, thin and rough and fraying round the edges – but it was clean, and that's what mattered.  
  
He dried his face off and, feeling a little more collected, went back into the main room, straight to his clothes. He quickly shrugged on his vest and jacket, leaving them open as he threaded the tie through his collar and hastily knotted it. He buttoned up the vest, casting around for his shoes and patting himself down. It only took him a couple of moments to realise he was missing some pretty important items.  
  
“Looking for something?” His head snapped up. Mike was standing in the doorway, holding his shoes in one hand and a clear bag in the other. It had his phone, wallet and keys inside. He also didn't fail to see the packet of cocaine in there as well.  
  
He closed his eyes slowly and let out a long breath. After a long moment, he looked up again and made himself meet Mike's eyes.  
  
\--  
  
Mike shut the door behind him, looking calmly away from Harvey. He couldn't read his expression, but from the tightness in his jaw and the set of his shoulders, he was readying for a fight. Mike was prepared for this to get ugly. He'd lost count of the times he'd dealt with Trevor the mornings after binge nights.  
  
He set the shoes and bag on the couch and turned back to Harvey. He was watching him closely, like an animal being backed slowly into a corner. Something about the behaviour made Mike feel sick again and he was grateful that he'd forgone any breakfast other than a coffee whilst he was out.  
  
He'd taken a walk after Ray had dropped his bike and checked up, locking Harvey in before taking a long, long walk around the neighbourhood. The morning air had cleared his head a little, shaking away some of the fatigue that clung after the too little sleep. He'd tossed and turned for hours, drifting off every now and again. He'd practically mainlined coffee at his favourite diner before picking up some groceries on his way back. He, at the very least, would need something to eat soon.  
  
Standing back in his apartment now, he almost wished he'd let Harvey go – or not come back in, just to see what he'd do. Mike had heard the pipes rattling for the shower as he headed up the corridor and decided to wait a few minutes. He needed Harvey go through everything.  
  
“Mike.” He looked up at his name, seeing Harvey square his shoulders slightly. He didn't look anywhere near as cornered now. He put his hands in his pockets and tilted his chin up slightly. “Give me my things.”  
  
His voice was low and calm, but there was a rough edge to it. He couldn't quite hide the hangover, something that Mike was surprisingly happy about. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders, positioning himself between Harvey and the belongings. “Give me one good reason.”  
  
“They're _mine_.” Harvey grit his teeth slightly. No matter how hard he was trying to save face, he just didn't have enough concentration. It served as another thing in Mike's favour. Harvey was so in control of everything, all the time – to have his emotions in the open like this was something Mike could press on.  
  
“So call the cops,” He shrugged again, but then snapped his fingers as if in sudden realisation, “but wait, you can't, because then you'd have to explain why you were in possession of what I'm assuming is a bag of the finest coke in the city. Seriously, that stuff must've cost you a _bomb_.”  
  
“Mike.” He said again. There was something in his voice that Mike couldn't place, something just a little desperate that he really didn't want to acknowledge. He said nothing, just blinked, and Harvey ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “How about abduction then? Feel like going down for pre-meditated assault or false imprisonment?”  
  
“I'm not stopping you from going anywhere.” Mike replied calmly.  
  
“Then give me back my things.” Harvey said slowly.  
  
“I said you could leave, not that I was going to give you your things back. There's a difference. You're completely free to walk out right now.” Mike pointed out. Harvey looked a little like he was about to punch something – or at least, by Harvey's standards he looked like he was about to punch something. On anyone else, his posture would have seemed positively at ease.  
  
“Why am I even here? Is there something wrong with my condo?” Harvey snapped, standing still but looking for all the world like he wanted to pace, to move – to do anything to get back some control.  
  
“No - and that's why I didn't take you there.” Mike said, ignoring the noise of distaste Harvey made as he looked away. “If you'd woken up there after doing what you did last night, it would make this whole thing okay – because even though you were high again, it's fine because you don't have to choose between your rent and your next hit any more. You'd be a whole new level of addict, because this time you'd stay in control and you can afford the _really_ good stuff.”  
  
“You don't know what you're—” Harvey began, but Mike cut him off sharply.  
  
“I know _exactly_ what I'm talking about.” He watched Harvey's jaw tighten, but he clearly suppressed whatever reply he was planning. “You start making a habit out of last night and it's only a matter of time before you lose everything. Sooner or later, you'll be back in a shitty little bedsit, with a god awful water supply and maybe five minutes of hot water in the morning. You'll have nothing in the cupboards but a couple of packs of ramen because you'll have to work two jobs just to make rent and you'll forget what it feels like to own something new.”  
  
“That wouldn't happen. The only way this gets back to Jessica is if _you_ tell her.” Harvey met his eyes with a look of confidence that Mike was accustomed to. “And you're not going to do that.”  
  
“No, I'm not, you're right.” Mike conceded. He paused for a moment. “When were you last tested at work?”  
  
That called Harvey up short. He frowned, a slowly dawning realisation creeping into his expression. Mike knew he'd got him there.  
  
“We both know that by Monday, you won't test positive with a urine sample – but what if one of your friends lets slip that they snorted with the great Harvey Specter, and Jessica finds herself facing a tidal wave of clients threatening to pull their business?” Mike took a couple of steps forwards as he spoke, pressing home his advantage. “She'll have no choice but to demand a more conclusive test and, if I may say so, you're hair's looking pretty good at the moment.”  
  
“You think that by threatening me, you'll scare me straight?” Harvey squared his shoulders.  
  
“No, I think I'll knock your brain back into gear.” Mike held his ground. “I'm calling you out before destroy everything you've spent nearly two decades working for.”  
  
“I'm not destroying anything.” Harvey said. His voice was tight, raising slightly as he carried on. “What I do outside of work is no-one's concern – least of all yours.”  
  
“It's entirely my concern.” Mike countered. Harvey frowned, incredulous.  
  
“That's it, isn't it? This whole thing isn't about me - this is about you and the job you'd given up even _dreaming_ about.” Harvey spat out. Mike flinched at the genuine anger in his voice – he'd never heard Harvey speak with such venom before.  
  
“I don't know where the fuck you get off saying something like that, but none of what I did was about me.” Mike paced forwards a few steps. All his anger of the night before came back with a vengeance. “It was about finding a way to save you. It was about minimising the damage done to the people you care about.”  
  
“Bullshit!” Harvey took a step forward as well, his expression furious. “Minimising damage? Your smartass idea made everything worse!”  
  
“Are you even hearing yourself? Harvey,” Mike stared at him in disbelief, “it took _four_ people to get you out of that club, and not one of us did it for our own benefit!”  
  
“You're the only one I saw, and you can't tell me you wanted to be there.” Harvey stepped forwards again, leaving only two or three feet between them.  
  
“What did you think was going to happen? Did you seriously expect no-one to notice?” Mike wanted to reach out and shake him. God, he could be so _fucking_ self-centred someti--  
  
“ _Yes!_ ” Harvey yelled, finally snapping. Mike flinched, paralysed with shock. He stared at Harvey, meeting his eyes and not knowing where to even begin with deciphering what he saw. Harvey was panting slightly, seemingly a little shocked himself.  
  
A moment stretched to seconds. After a minute, Harvey looked away. He swallowed hard, eyes darting over the floor before he took a breath and straightened up. His armour was broken, the façade cracked clean down the middle. Part of Mike was desperately trying to call Harvey out and press on this new advantage, but the rest of him couldn't move.  
  
“I need to get back.” Harvey said finally, not even attempting to look at Mike as he stepped around him and grabbed his things from the couch. He pulled on his shoes and tucked the items in the bag into his pockets.  
  
He walked straight to the door and paused for a moment, his back to Mike. The pause was only for a moment though, and then he was gone. Mike had barely moved from where he'd frozen to the spot. It was minutes after the door closed behind Harvey with a resounding _thud_ that Mike had the presence of mind to sit down on the couch. He collapsed, still a little stunned.  
  
Of course, he'd expected Harvey to put up a fight, to be pissed off and scathing until Mike gave in. He'd even been prepared for outright anger. What he hadn't been banking on was the self-loathing he'd caught a glimpse of. It contradicted _everything_ Mike thought he knew about Harvey. He sighed heavily and rubbed his face.  
  
He needed to see this from Harvey's point of view. If he was going to fix this – whatever this was – he needed to make sure he got it right. Harvey wasn't somebody you could take multiple runs at, especially not at a time like this. This was Harvey at the bottom of the pile, torn to pieces by himself and others – Mike included. This was Harvey when he'd run through all hundred and forty-six other options and still had the barrel of a gun to his head.  
  
Up until that point, Mike had felt in control. He'd taken charge of the situation and kept Harvey there. He'd taken away the power Harvey usually tucked neatly into his hands – but he'd done it because Harvey was starting to let go, to loosen his grip and it was all spilling free. Harvey needed someone to exert control, preferred to do it himself, but ultimately just the knowledge that he wasn't free-falling was enough for him. Right now, Harvey thought he was facing a black hole.  
  
Mike pulled himself back together, straightened himself up and started to go back through the events of the last couple of days. There was something he was missing, he was sure of it. Harvey hadn't been on the edge of madness when he'd turned up in the conference room. He looked strained, his focus fraying around the edges, but it was nothing the upcoming weekend wouldn't have solved. He'd turned up to work yesterday, after all.  
  
No, something happened that yesterday, something Mike hadn't been party to. He got up and started to make himself some lunch, still running through things with a fine tooth comb.  
  
What had Jessica said to him when she'd cornered him? “ _I don't know what you're doing, but I_ will _find out._ ” This was something to do with Hardman then, something about the deal he'd struck with Tanner. Did Jessica think he was working with Hardman, that he was on the other side? _Shit_. That was the absolute last thing he needed.  
  
With a sigh, he sat back down and flicked on the television. It was some old comedy re-run – one he'd know off by heart even without the eidetic memory.  
  
Ultimately, this whole thing was about trust, or a lack thereof. Trust was currency in Harvey's world, that much he'd learnt. Trust and loyalty above anything else. Yes, Donna had betrayed him, but what was Harvey supposed to do about that? She'd committed a crime and she was facing jail as a result of that – but she'd done it out of loyalty him, no matter how misguided that had been.  
  
He didn't get it. He didn't understand what could've happened to pitch Harvey off the edge so sharply. When Louis had questioned and harassed Donna, Harvey had taken the blow. When Jessica had pulled Harvey up and ripped away the layers of his carefully constructed façade, he'd still managed to rally. Yes, both of those things had left him raw and a little shaken, but not like this. Harvey lived in this world, he understood that what happened in a trial wasn't indicative of relationships outside – and he would've trusted Donna and Jessica to know that as well.  
  
The more he thought about it, the more he found his anger over Harvey's behaviour the night before fading. He couldn't stay angry with him over his actions – but he _could_ stay pissed at his hypocrisy. Mike trusted Harvey – finally, painstakingly, unfailingly – and he'd thought it was mutual. He thought they'd reached the point where they had each others' backs with things like this.  
  
Harvey would never have let him sink that deep. Harvey would've noticed long before.  
  
The guilt that accompanied the realisation tempered the sudden swell of annoyance somewhat. It also served to make up his mind.  
  
Mike set about cleaning up his flat. He did his laundry, threw out the ripe take-out leftovers and cleaned the surfaces. He stacked books back on the shelves, neatened up all the case files he was working on – he even deigned to vacuum the floor quickly. Already his place was looking more habitable, more welcoming. It had lost the air of the desperate junkie – not too bad for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon.  
  
He also knew exactly what he was going to say to Harvey.  
  
He grabbed a shower and changed into some of his now-clean clothes before grabbing his bike and leaving. The journey across town to Harvey's building took a little longer than he would've liked, but the weather was fine and the bite of the wind wasn't unpleasant. It was pretty rare that Mike would go to Harvey's place alone. The only times he'd been – other than the night before – had been _with_ Harvey, dropping something off between work and a function or something similar.  
  
He usually had to wait out front or in the lobby. To say Harvey valued his privacy was an understatement, but he guessed was a good thing. It meant that the doorman hadn't brushed him off as some twink. It meant Clive recognised him and had been able to help the night before.  
  
It was almost an hour after he left his place that he arrived at Harvey's building. He locked his bike up on the railings as he'd done the night before and pushed his way through the doors as he pulled his helmet off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. Clive looked up from his desk with a wave.  
  
“Oh, hi, Clive.” Mike forced a smile and headed over to the desk.  
  
“Afternoon.” Clive put down his paper, beckoning Mike to come in a little closer. Mike frowned, but followed his gesture. “Are you sure everything's okay with Mr. Specter?”  
  
“Why do you ask?” Mike felt his stomach sink at the look of concern on the other man's face.  
  
“He came back around midday – just after I came back on shift - but he looked out of sorts. Haggard, you know?” He gestured to his face and Mike grimaced, nodding.  
  
“Last night just took a bit of an unexpected turn.” He did his best to shrug it off, but Clive didn't look like he was buying it.  
  
“Whatever case it it you two are working, I really hope you win it.” He sat back a bit, frowning. Mike just nodded as he straightened up.  
  
“So do I, believe me.” They exchanged a grim look before Mike turned away and headed for the elevators. This time, at least, he knew what to expect at the top. He was confident that Clive would've told him if Harvey had left again. After what he'd seen last night, Mike was pretty sure he could handle anything.  
  
He stepped out of the elevator and headed down Harvey's corridor. He felt strangely calm, a complete parody of how he'd felt the day before. This time, as he knocked sharply on the door, he didn't expect a reply. He waited a few minutes before trying again.  
  
“Harvey?” He called through the door, still no reply. “Harvey, I have a key. I'm going to knock again, but then I'm using it.”  
  
He raised his hand and knocked again, three sharp raps to the wood. Then he waited. He began to count the second out, _one, two, three, four_ , and he wondered if he'd played it right, _sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nine_ \--  
  
The door opened, but Mike barely caught a glimpse of Harvey before he'd turned away and headed back into the condo. Mike closed the door behind him, taking a moment to marvel at how different the place looked when it was flooded with natural light. It was pretty close to perfect, as far as Mike could tell. He paused at the end of the corridor, glancing around the living area before moving to rest back against the breakfast counter.  
  
Harvey was standing at the sink, working his way through a colossal pile of dishes and Mike could only assume that he found the chore soothing in some way. He was pretty certain that a man like Harvey would have a state-of-the-art dishwasher tucked neatly under his counters somewhere. He watched silently as Harvey carried on, completely ignoring him.  
  
Minutes stretched on and the pile of clean dishes grew steadily. Mike was content to wait, to watch the methodical movements of the items in Harvey's hands as he wiped and dunked them, rinsing the suds off under the tap. He watched Harvey's fingers, red from the heat of the water, the blood rushing back out as he gripped tightly to something heavy.  
  
He'd clearly showered and changed; he was dressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt, navy blue with the sleeves pushed up, paired with battered jeans that looked like they were from his Harvard days. His feet were bare on the polished floor tiles. Something about the domesticity of the scene made Mike ache a little. He was an intruder here, he knew that much.  
  
He felt a little subdued as Harvey finished up, rinsing the last of the plates and a the handful of cutlery before shutting off the tap and pulling the plug. The only thing Mike could hear was the gurgling and spluttering of the dirty water down the drain. When the last of it was gone, they were left in silence, surround by awkward, empty air. Harvey was just standing there, arms braced on the counter, head lowered.  
  
“What happened after I left the conference room yesterday?” Mike asked gently, finally. Harvey took in a slow breath.  
  
“We settled.” He said after a long pause. Mike's heart did a weird flip in his chest, but it hadn't even settled before suspicions crept in.  
  
“How was it decided?” He asked.  
  
“They called a partner meeting and there was a vote. We voted to settle.” Harvey shrugged, turning around to face him. He looked back to his normal self – a little tired, maybe, but he'd recovered from the rawness of earlier.  
  
“How did the vote go?” Mike pushed, sensing that the source of everything that had happened was just below the surface. This felt like the crux of the whole mind blowing affair.  
  
“We voted to settle.” Harvey said, pushing away from the counter and starting to walk away. Mike lurched forwards and grabbed his arm, already letting his growing irritation take control again. He managed to catch on Harvey's upper arm. Harvey froze, the muscles under Mike hand tensing.  
  
“Harvey, what _happened_?” He demanded. “Were you and Jessica outnumbered? Did Hardman take the casting vote? What?!”  
  
Harvey twisted his arm sharply, freeing himself from Mike's grip. In the same movement, he rounded on Mike, his calm, collected façade already crumbling away. “I took the casting vote! I held-out and then I voted _against_ Jessica – _Jessica!_ – because _you_ told me to!”  
  
Mike flinched, but held his ground. He stared at Harvey. This time he wasn't even trying to control the loathing and anger in his expression – and Mike wasn't entirely sure how much of it was directed at him. “Harvey, I--”  
  
“Don't understand?” Harvey asked, a bitter smile on his face as he stepped right up into Mike's personal space. “In less than a week, I've betrayed two of my oldest friends because of _you_.”  
  
Harvey spat the last word out, but instead of flinching, Mike took a hold of the curling anger coming back up.  
  
“I have nothing to do with what happened to Donna,” He leaned forwards a little, pressing back against Harvey's dominance, “and as for 'betraying' Jessica into settling, my point still stands – everyone is paying now. If you two can't see that then--”  
  
“It's not about settling, it's about the fact that Hardman's approach won and I endorsed it. My _entire_ career, I've been at Jessica's back and fighting her corner and when she needed me to back her up, I took her legs from under her in front of _everyone_.” Harvey's voice had dropped, the anger bleeding out. Mike's own frustrations seemed to follow them out as he watched Harvey's shoulders slump, the fight leaving him. “And now Hardman's calling a vote to take her position, and it's because of me.”  
  
Mike watched as Harvey took a step back, yielded to him, and ducked his head. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, holding it in place as if it would make Mike go away. No matter what he'd looked like a few minutes ago, this was it. Harvey was broken, alone and pin-wheeling out of control. Mike wanted to think that he wasn't the best person for this job, but who else could he call? The brother he'd only ever heard about through obscure references? Donna who was furious at both of them? Ray?  
  
No, Harvey didn't have anyone else and that thought alone made Mike ache to his core. The instinct to do something started itching at his fingers and – unlike the night before, when he'd been so close to holding him as he slept – this time he followed it.  
  
He reached forwards, pulling Harvey to him with an arm round his waist and a hand on the back of his neck. Harvey's pressed his forehead to his shoulder and shuddered as if he was getting rid of the last of his resolve. Mike just held tight, rubbed a hand slowly over his back and frowned at the wall opposite him.  
  
Long minutes passed, Harvey growing slowly more accepting of the contact before he embraced it. He moved his hand from his face and slid an arm round Mike's shoulders, the other around his chest. He held tight in return and Mike felt something inside himself unwind and relax. Even if only for now, Harvey was accepting his help.  
  
He ran his fingers up through Harvey's hair, stroking the base of his skull gently. It seemed perfectly natural to turn his head slightly and press his nose and mouth to his head, just breathing in the scent of him. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him that this was wrong and totally inappropriate and fuck, this was _Harvey_ – but it was smothered by the more immediate sensation of Harvey being _right there_. His hands were wrapped tightly into the back of his t-shirt, his face pressed to his shoulder, practically clinging to him.  
  
It was... weird. It had been a long time since he'd had physical contact for the sake of physical contact. He'd always had someone, mostly Grammy but sometimes Trevor, with who this was normal, but he'd figured that Harvey's world wasn't really a place where this was acceptable. That was okay, he'd adapted, but he'd forgotten how _good_ it felt. Maybe Harvey had too.  
  
They stayed like that for a while, Harvey just clinging to him as he stroked gently at his hair. He wondered what was going on in his head, just how fucked up he really was. He wondered if this was new or just something from a long forgotten past. Either way, Mike wanted to protect him, a strange and maybe misguided need to put himself between Harvey and all the adversity he was facing.  
  
“Harvey,” He said finally, speaking gently so as not to disturb the fragile peace that had settled around them. Harvey clung a little tighter and pressed his face further into Mike's neck. Mike twisted them a little and pulled Harvey backwards so he could lean against the breakfast counter.  
  
The movement shifted Harvey so his face was cradled against his neck and Mike couldn't really help it when he tilted his head slightly and kept him in place. He could feel Harvey's breath against his throat, even and deep. After a long, long few minutes, Harvey tensed and began to pull back.  
  
“Harvey,” Mike said again, catching his face between his hands and keeping him close. Harvey avoided his eyes, but didn't pull away. His hands drifted to rest at Mike's waist, fidgeting slightly. “Harvey, what do you need?”  
  
Harvey shook his head slightly and Mike tightened his fingers a little, though still cradling his jaw gently. “I don't...”  
  
“What do you want me to do?” After a moment, Harvey's eyes flickered to his, catching them for a breath or two. When he leaned in, head tilting slightly, Mike had just enough time to acknowledge it before Harvey was kissing him, soft and tentative.  
  
Mike pulled him closer and kissed back, making sure that Harvey didn't spook or run away. He rubbed his fingers into the skin behind his ears, encouraging him gently as Harvey seemed to find himself on steadier ground. His hands moved to wrap around Mike's waist and pull him a little closer.  
  
The kiss stayed soft, but it felt almost like Harvey was waking up. Mike felt Harvey lick against the seam of his mouth and he opened his lips, letting Harvey lick in and deepen the kiss. It was gentle and protective and Mike felt something burst inside his rib cage.  
  
If he'd ever really imagined what it would be like to kiss Harvey, this wasn't it. He'd thought Harvey would be controlling, dominant and completely self-assured throughout. He'd thought it would be seductive and arousing, he thought it would make him melt into his arms... But this was _honest_. This was broken and melancholy, this was heartache and self-loathing. It was sadness and loneliness wrapped in an unspoken need that neither of them seemed to be able to decipher.  
  
Mike slipped his hand round to lay flat around the back of Harvey's neck, the other moving down to his chest. He just kept kissing him and being kissed, all languid movements and quiet comfort. Mike could feel his muscles slowly starting to seize from staying still, but he couldn't bring himself to move away.  
  
He was lost in Harvey's attention, exploring and being explored, starting to learn things that made soft noises and slight sighs that came from him. The kiss was a tide, a tentative push and pull of attention and control.  
  
It wasn't until he felt Harvey's fingers dip into the waist of his jeans that he pulled away with a sigh tried to catch his breath. Harvey looked at him with barely hidden concern, trying put back the distance between them. Mike just looked at him, making Harvey meet his eyes.  
  
“Are you sure?” He asked gently, staying close. Harvey's jaw tightened and his expression shifted slightly. He was silent for a long moment.  
  
“It's been a while, but I just...” He trailed off, a little defeated. “ _Please_ , Mike.”  
  
Mike moved his hand up to Harvey's face again, brushing his thumb across his He tracked it's movement, tracing his fingers along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. He nodded slowly and looked back at Harvey.  
  
“Whatever you need, Harvey. You've just got to let me look after you.” Mike said, trying to inject a bit of normality into his tone. A frown flickered across Harvey's face before he ducked his head in agreement.  
  
Mike leaned in and kissed him again briefly, already moving to press a kiss to his jaw as Harvey tried to reciprocate. Mike held his head in place as he licked gently at the skin beneath his ear, kissing and sucking lightly until he heard a tell-tale exhale of breath from Harvey. He let go of his neck and ran his hand down Harvey's arm, winding their fingers together and squeezing them gently.  
  
“The bedroom's through here.” Harvey looked at him briefly before turning and tugging him along as he headed further into the apartment. Mike followed easily, waiting until Harvey pushed at the door to the bedroom before he pulled back the control.  
  
As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled Harvey back to him, kicking the door shut with his foot as he drew Harvey into another kiss. This one was different, less aimless and with a very clear goal in mind. He could feel Harvey's hands on him, pulling him close by the belt loops of his jeans as Mike bit at his lips and curled his fingers into the back of his top.  
  
He took a step back, pulling Harvey with him until Mike felt the door solid against his back. He kissed him harder and he moved his hands down, trailing firm lines over and around his waist until he reached the front of his jeans. He flicked open the button and worked down the zipper enough so that he could push his hand in. He cupped Harvey's still soft cock through his boxers and pressed gently. There was the very beginning of arousal, but nothing really conclusive.  
  
He felt Harvey tense slightly, but carried on licking into his mouth and keeping him distracted. He hadn't expected a raging hard-on, or a promising semi. Part of him liked the fact, like knowing that he was going to have to work Harvey the whole way.  
  
Mike pressed forwards and managed to turn them. Harvey huffed slightly and Mike broke the kiss to turn his attention back to his neck and the hints of his collar bones. He moved his hands up to his stomach, slipping up under his top and resting skin on skin. Harvey was still a little tense, but he had his hands looped round and pressed to Mike's shoulder blades, stopping them from falling too far apart.  
  
Mike nipped and licked his way down Harvey's neck, sucking at the curve where his throat met his shoulder. It elicited a soft groan that put a smile on Mike's face. He pressed himself closer, careful not to move too quickly. He still got the feeling that Harvey might bolt at any wrong moves.  
  
He could already feel blood rushing to his groin, stiffening his cock. He pulled at one of Harvey's arms until he grasped his hand. With his free hand, he pulled open his jeans before guiding Harvey's down. He curled their hands around his cock, as he'd done to Harvey. The contact and the pressure made his breath hitch and his spine straighten slightly.  
  
He rubbed faintly at Harvey's hand and arched a little into the touch. The movement seemed to snap something and suddenly Harvey's hand was moving under it's own steam, squeezing and massaging until Mike could feel himself starting to pant against Harvey's neck.  
  
He ripped their hands up, trapping Harvey's against the door as he surged forwards to kiss him again, hard and just a little needy. He pressed his hips forward again, his knee moving between Harvey's thighs, and was gratified to find Harvey responding to him, if only a little. He indulged for a moment, grinding vaguely against Harvey's hip as Harvey moved his free hand to Mike's hair, gripping tight and holding on.  
  
He could feel Harvey's chest heaving and he kissed him harder, swallowing down the soft groans that were becoming louder and more urgent. Harvey bucked forwards, grinding their cocks together just hard enough to make Mike shudder.  
  
He tugged at Harvey sharply, pulling him from the door and up against him. Harvey's now freed hand clutched at his back, pulling them together as Mike twists neatly to one side and walks Harvey slowly back against the side of the bed. They fell together and Mike smiles and the startled exhale of air that comes from Harvey makes him laugh a little before pulling himself over him again.  
  
He stared down at Harvey, hands planted on either side of his head. He could feel Harvey's hands on his sides, thumbs rubbing slow circles against his skin as Harvey just looked back. He seemed calmer already, his expression soft and strangely trusting. His hands are soothing, but Mike knew that – somewhere under everything – he was looking for comfort and reassurance. Mike smiled slowly again and let Harvey take what he needed.  
  
When Harvey's hands began to tighten a little, Mike leant down to kiss him again, soft and teasing, biting at his lips and making him chase for more. He grinned as Harvey's grip shifted to his ass, hands pushing at the now loose jeans. He tried to hold Mike still, but Mike pulled away and sat back on his heels, pushing into Harvey's grip.  
  
He wriggled out of the grip and lets Harvey sit up, getting more comfortable. Mike just waited until he was done before settling himself properly on his lap. He didn't want to beat around the bush, not today ,he just wanted to touch and feel skin. He tugged as the bottom of Harvey's top and between them, they stripped it off calmly, Harvey throwing it to one side. Mike let his hands fall to Harvey's shoulders, trailing down over his collar bones, his chest, following his ribs round and down over his sides.  
  
He noted it as Harvey shivered slightly, but the expression of the other man's face was still resolute. He leaned in and kissed him again, slowly and honestly. He pushed Harvey back down, hands moving back to his sides once they were lying flush together. Harvey opened up under him, luxuriating in the kiss and slowly starting to pull down the barriers.  
  
Mike ran his hands along his cheeks, down his neck, clutching gently at his arms and back up the sides of his chest. Each touch made it harder to fight back the arousal, but he could feel Harvey against him, responding beautifully to him. A thrill ran down his spine at the thought and Mike tried to quash it before it grew any further.  
  
He bucked his hips down, pressing his cock to Harvey's as he kissed him deeper. He wanted Harvey to take part, to engage. He wanted Harvey to admit to wanting it and letting himself free for long enough to enjoy it. Harvey's hands were settled on his waist, skin against skin but unmoving. Mike kept urging him on, hearing and feeling the evidence of Harvey starting to lose a little of his control, but his hands stayed still.  
  
He pulled back sharply and tugged his t-shirt off, dropping it to one side as he fixed a calculating look on Harvey. The flush rising up his chest and neck was a pleasant surprise, the slight swelling to his lips expected but nonetheless enticing. He fixed his eyes on Harvey's and held them as he reached down to Harvey's hands. He guided them down of his hips, pushing at his jeans and under his boxers. Harvey's jaw clenched a couple of times, but he followed where he was lead.  
  
Mike pulled a hand free and leaned forwards, racing himself on it, still watching Harvey. He could feel the heat of his hands so, so close and another thrill ran through him. He waited, tension starting to collect in his shoulders, building almost painfully until Harvey shifted and a hand wrapped round his cock. Fuck. _Fuck_ , that felt good – better than he expected.  
  
Harvey's grip was large and firm, no sign of his tentativeness coming through and he stroked him once. Mike swallowed hard and couldn't help it as he eyes slid closed as his head fell forwards. Harvey's other hand moved round his hip to cup his ass and Mike freed his other hand, using it to support himself again.  
  
His hips were moving of their own accord, Harvey's hands willing him on. It was lazy and more than a little ineffective, but it was enough to draw a series of low moans from him.  
  
He shifted his weight again and slid a hand down Harvey's chest, ghosting across the front of his boxers and feeling the weight there. He was already harder, fuller, and Mike wasted no time in slipping his hand inside to stroke and tease Harvey's cock.  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Mike.” It was barely more than a murmur, but Mike didn't hesitate to look up, letting himself be pulled into a kiss and Harvey surged up to meet him, his hips seeking out the touch of his hand.  
  
The tone changed again and Harvey pulled them tight together as he kissed him almost brutally. It was a mess of tongues and teeth and Mike could taste the faint lacing of desperation in it. It was both beautiful and painful to be made aware of. Harvey's defences were coming down, one by one, and this may be the most important.  
  
Mike was startled for a moment as Harvey flipped them onto their sides, pushing Mike to his back and propping himself up on one arm. He leaned in and kisses him again, taking the lead a little this time. Harvey let go of his tongue, his hand teasing it's way up his stomach and round to his side again. Mike kissed him back and hooked his fingers into the belt loops on Harvey's jeans. He tugged until Harvey swung a leg over him and their hips were lined up.  
  
Harvey was kissing him filthily, and Mike half wondered if this was him finding his footing a little. He didn't care all that much, so long as he stayed still and close. Mike moved his hands back to Harvey's ass, sliding his fingers into his boxers and massaging his fingertips into the muscles he could feel just beneath the skin. Harvey pressed back into the touch with what could only be described as a whine and Mike could help but grin into the kiss as he pulled a hand round to gauge Harvey's reaction.  
  
If the hard-on was anything to go by, Harvey was pretty much up to speed. Mike gripped him firmly, and stroked him several times as Harvey's back arched and he sighed, hips shifting towards the touch. He wasn't the most impressive guy Mike had ever had in his hand, but there was very little doubt in his mind that Harvey's reputation as a sex God was more or less deserved. He kept moving, even as Harvey broke the kiss to suck in a deep breath. His head fell to Mike's shoulder and Mike couldn't resist turning a little and pressing an open kiss to the side of his neck.  
  
Harvey made another noise, his breath shuddering just a little.  
  
“Mike.” His voice was hoarse, roughened from exertion and want. Mike stilled his hand a little and nudged his nose to Harvey's jaw, signalling to carry on. “You're going to need to stop for a moment.”  
  
Mike pulled his hand free and was just about to move his mouth from Harvey's neck when the hand on his side tightened to keep him there.  
  
“It'd be a smart move to get supplies before we get any more incoherent.” Mike almost thought he could hear a smile in Harvey's voice – and he struggled to suppress one of his own, just nodding instead.  
  
After a long pause, Harvey dragged himself up and away, and Mike watched as he crossed the room to a door on the other side. It opened onto what could only be an en suite bathroom and Mike took the opportunity to tug off his sneakers and socks, tossing them to one side as he heard a cupboard door fall shut in the bathroom.  
  
A few moments later, Harvey was back, barefoot as well now. He had a box of condoms and lube held loosely in one hand, tossing them in the direction of the pillows as he moved back to where Mike was lying back, watching him. Harvey dropped down onto the covers next to him and Mike slid a hand across his stomach, his fingers itching just a little to make contact again. Harvey covered his hand with one of his own and looked at Mike again.  
  
Mike paused for a few beats before pushing himself back up and moving to straddle Harvey again. Mike framed his chest with his hands, surveying him for a moment before shifting backwards and gripping the top of Harvey's jeans. He knelt up, giving Harvey room to raise his hips, and worked them down until they could just be kicked off. It was more than a little hot to see Harvey laid out like that, cock tenting his boxers so beautifully.  
  
“I would tell you how good you look, but I think you already know that.” Mike smoothed a hand down the middle of Harvey's chest, trying to bite back the possessive streak threatening to emerge.  
  
“It doesn't hurt to hear it every so often.” He was smirking a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. Something about the doubt there made Mike's insides hurt. He fixed Harvey with a long look. He leaned down, closing the distance to a few inches and moving his mouth until his breath ghosted against Harvey's ear.  
  
“I've never wanted anyone more.” He murmured, noting the shiver that rattled through Harvey's chest and the slight backwards tilt to his head. He pulled back a little to find Harvey's eyes had slid closed and he took the chance to lick a stripe down his neck, sucking at his Adam's apple before placing a kiss to his collar bone. “Harvey, can I fuck you?”  
  
“ _Yes_.” It was a hiss of breath between gritted teeth, but Mike smiled and pulled him into another slow kiss, deep and lazy, sensations winding sluggishly down to his crotch.  
  
Mike pulled away and moved backwards until he had to get to his feet. He pulled firmly at Harvey's boxers and the other man shifted his hips, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched him carefully. Mike worked his legs free and ran his fingers up Harvey's thighs until he could press his thumbs lightly to the hollows of his hips. Harvey's legs fell open a little and Mike settled between them, getting to his knees and brushing his bottom lip over the pink head of Harvey's cock.  
  
Harvey made a noise, a sigh bitten back as Mike exhaled. He ran his tongue tentatively across the hot skin, closing his mouth loosely around it and sucking. Harvey's hips tensed beneath him and Mike glanced up under his lashes to see his head falling back a little. Mike sucked harder, drawing more of Harvey in, tasting the faint traces of pre-come on his tongue.  
  
He hummed a little and Harvey made a slightly choked sound above. A hand wound into his hairs, fingers brushing at his ear and neck as they sought for purchase and Mike just hollowed his cheeks a little more. Harvey's hips bucked slightly and Mike moved a hand to hold him still as he started sucking in earnest until Harvey was gasping and writhing beneath him.  
  
He heard movement, but didn't look up until Harvey's hand tightened almost painfully in his hair, silently telling him to pull back. He did so slowly and smiled as Harvey thrust the condoms and lube at him.  
  
“Get yourself comfortable.” Mike said, pulling himself up Harvey's body to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He felt Harvey catch his chin in his hand and tug him over into a firmer, more reassuring kiss.  
  
Mike pulled back and worked his jeans and boxers off as Harvey shifted behind him. He heard a long sigh and turned to find Harvey on his front, head pillowed against his arms, eyes closed. Mike stared at him for a moment, drinking the sight of the smooth expanse of his back, the firmness of this ass and thighs, the muscles bunched at his shoulders.  
  
He crawled across the bed, nudging Harvey's thighs until he opened them a little. He ran a hand over his ass, kneading at it gently before tracing the shape of his spine. Harvey tensed beautifully under the touch and Mike laughed slightly, moving himself closer. Harvey made a noise of disapproval, but let Mike move him.  
  
Mike held his hips firmly and pulled them up until Harvey was kneeling with his ass in the air, arched forward with his forehead still pressed into his folded arms. Mike dropped a kiss to the middle of his back, following his spine with his lips until he could flick his tongue out into the dimples that signalled the small of his back.  
  
He bit gently at the skin of his ass, hands stroking lightly at his thighs before moving up as Mike parted his ass cheeks. He heard Harvey's breath hitch, but didn't pause before he dipped his tongue down to the tight pucker for his entrance. Harvey tensed under his hands and he squeezed at his ass a little, lavishing attention with his tongue.  
  
He worked slowly, pressing against and in until Harvey was pressing back into him again, searching for more and damn near whining when Mike refused. He pulled away, dropping a kiss to the small of his back as he reached down next to him for the lube.  
  
He squeezed a generous amount on his fingers and worked it warm with his thumb. He brushed the slicked thumb against the wet skin at Harvey's hole and circled it briefly before pressing in. Harvey tried to move away at first, a low groan coming from him, but Mike hushed him and ran a soothing hand up and down his thigh, coaxing him into relaxing.  
  
He pushed his thumb in a little further and licked at a faint bite mark he'd left on his ass. Harvey shifted again, this time pressing back into him and Mike replaced his thumb with a finger, pushing deeper. Harvey _groaned_ and Mike began to fuck him open a little until he was loose enough to take a second finger. As soon as his hole began to stretch around the second digit, Harvey pushed back unexpectedly and made a noise that made it very difficult for Mike to take it slowly.  
  
He did move faster from there, urging in a third finger and scissoring until Harvey clenched around his fingers and still completely.  
  
“If you don't start fucking me in the next thirty seconds, I will personally feed you to Jessica.” Mike laughed a little at how hollow the threat was and moved his fingers a few more times until Harvey relaxed again. He pulled them free and grabbed a condom, stroking himself a couple of times before rolling it on and slicking himself up.  
  
He leant forwards for a final time and ran his tongue down the cleft of Harvey's ass, teasing it into his stretched hole once, twice, before pulling back and lining himself up. He pushed the head in past the ring of muscle, biting at the inside of his cheek as he felt Harvey stretch around him. Harvey was panting, his legs shaking just a little as Mike inched himself forward.  
  
His chest was tight and he was out of breath by the time he was fully seated, heat radiating through him. He kept still, a hand on Harvey's back, fingers pressing down in re-assurance . Harvey was motionless beneath him except for the slight tremors in the muscles around his shoulders.  
  
Mike pulled back and thrust experimentally, earning another groan from Harvey as he arched his back into the movement. Mike smiled and started to rock, moving shallowly in and out until Harvey's hips found the rhythm. It was slow and a little awkward, but Mike didn't care all that much.  
  
He moved his hands tog raps Harvey's hips, pulling them up and back and starting to thrust in harder, picking up the pace until they were surrounded by the ragged breaths and needy sounds falling from them both. Harvey had buried his head further against his arms, settling into some sort of half-submissive state. It was all Mike could do not to pull out, turn him over and fuck him face-to-face – but Harvey had wanted it like this.  
  
Mike rubbed circles against the front of Harvey's hips with his fingers, already feeling himself start to lose control. He buried himself against and leaned forwards so more of his weight was resting on Harvey. He snaked a hand round to stroke slowly at Harvey's cock as he started to thrust again. The new angle brought a low whine of pleasure from Harvey and Mike kept going, rolling his hips a little as he thrust in, his hand moving in time.  
  
“Fuck...” Harvey spoke for the first time, a shuddering breath following the word. Mike squeezed at his cock and rubbed his thumb over the weeping slit. He said nothing, just kept stroking and fucking him until Harvey's panting became nonsense words that crescendoed to a loud cry as he came in hot, sticky strings across Mike's hands and the covers beneath.  
  
He clenched and shivered round Mike's cock and Mike struggled to see straight as he kept moving, Harvey making nearly pained sounds beneath him. Harvey leaned back, stretching his back a little, and the angle was all Mike needed. His breath hitched painfully in his chest and he squeezed his eyes closed as he came hard, buried in Harvey's ass.  
  
He waited for the colours and sensations to die back down, for the fatigue and muscle aches to make themselves known again. It took a while, but he was eventually aware again of where he was and what he was doing. The room seemed to lose some of it's vibrancy and allure as he remembered why he was there.  
  
Carefully, he pulled his softening cock from Harvey and guided him back down to lie on his side, avoiding the spunk on the sheets. Tying off the condom, he staggered to his feet and crossed to the en suite. He dumped the rubber in the trash and soaked a wash cloth, wiping himself down before rinsing it and taking it back through to Harvey.  
  
The top sheet had been stripped away and dumped to one side, Harvey lying flat on his back on top of the duvet, eyes closed and mouth open. He looked... well, he looked gorgeous. There was stubble burn on his cheeks and neck, a little on his thighs. There was a single line of come across his belly, smudged from fingers that had been dragged through it. His cock was soft and spent and his legs lay a little haphazardly.  
  
Mike pressed hard on the lump starting to rise in his throat at the sight. This wasn't part of the deal – this wasn't why he'd come here. All of that could be addressed at another time, preferably one when he and Harvey were fully dressed and on the opposite side of the city to each other.  
  
Quietly, he crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Harvey. He trailed a finger down his side and carefully started to clean him up. Harvey shifted a little, but didn't open his eyes until Mike reached his crotch. Harvey watched him, an unfathomable expression on his face. Mike didn't his best to ignore it as he finished up and tossed the wash cloth onto the pile of dirty sheet.  
  
Mike looked around for his discarded clothes and snagged his boxers from the pile a few feet from the bed. He was about to go for his jeans when he felt a hand curl around his wrist. He froze and looked over wearily.  
  
“Stay. There's things we need to talk about.” Harvey fixed him with a look and Mike nodded. Before he could say anything in reply, Harvey tugged at him until Mike was lying next to him. Harvey spooned against his back, arm securely around his waist and forehead pressed to the back of his neck.  
  
Mike just settled into the embrace and tried to stop his heart from hammering its way out of his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feel of Harvey's breathing against his neck, of the warmth radiating from his skin.  
  
He drifted for a while, settling into the half-space between being awake and asleep, his mind replaying the evening before in vivid technicolour. It played the image of Harvey snorting the line over and over, the girl on his lap, the sharp look on his face as he indulged her.  
  
When he'd tortured himself enough, his mind moved back to the past few days, to everything that had gone wrong and everything that had struck a blow to Harvey personally. There had been something off for a few weeks now, before Donna's desk was emptied over night, before this whole idiotic mock trial.  
  
He wasn't dumb enough to think he'd fixed things – not by a long shot – but he just hoped that, somehow, he'd reminded Harvey he wasn't on his own in this.  
  
Mike eventually blinked his eyes open, finding himself faced towards huge, floor to ceiling windows. Outside was the heart of Manhattan. He wondered if Harvey woke up to that view every day, whether that's what made him think this city was his.  
  
The sun was starting to sink down behind the tops of the skyscrapers, bright and starting to turn to the yellows and oranges of sunset. He sighed and closed his eyes again. At the noise, he felt Harvey stir, pressing his face further against the back of his neck and hold him a little tighter. His heart leapt in his chest for a brief moment before he felt Harvey let go and pull away.  
  
Mike curled in on himself a little, arms around himself as he listened to the sounds of Harvey moving around the room, pulling on clothes and bundling on the dirty sheets. The sounds of his footsteps disappeared for a while and Mike worked on trying to pull himself back together, pulling his mind back into the overarching problem at hand.  
  
The bed dipped behind him and a lone finger ran gently along the juts of his spine at the bottom of his back. He uncurled and turned a little, looking over his shoulder to find Harvey sitting in a t-shirt and boxers, watching him with a strangely warm expression.  
  
“Want a coffee?” He asked. Mike had to blink a couple of times because that was Harvey – _that_ was his boss and friend back in place.  
  
“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan.” Harvey got up and Mike took a moment to reel from the sudden change in Harvey's countenance. He pushed himself up and swung his legs round to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
Rubbing at his eyes, he listened to Harvey moving around the kitchen. Slowly, he levered himself up and stretched himself out before snagging his t-shirt from the floor and pulling it on. He shuffled out of the bedroom, a little disorientated and didn't bother hiding the interest in his expression as he took stock of Harvey's place.  
  
He'd seen it briefly at night. But the daylight was something different. It wasn't as clean and precise either, with DVDs lying scattered on the floor beneath the TV, books on the coffee table, a discarded blanket haphazardly tossed over the back of one of the plush leather couches.  
  
He glanced over to see Harvey standing in the kitchen, watching him with something a little like amusement. He pushed a mug across the surface and Mike diverted himself over the breakfast bar. He perched on one of the bar stools and sipped at the coffee as Harvey did the same. They were silent for a long time, Harvey looking anywhere but at Mike. For the most part, Mike just stared out of yet more floor to ceiling windows.  
  
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head to find Harvey pushing the small bag of cocaine across the marble to sit half way between them.  
  
“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” Mike asked carefully, putting his half finished drink to one side. Harvey shook his head.  
  
“Not yet.” Harvey met his eyes with a disturbingly somber look. Mike nodded and resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the work surface.  
  
“So what're you going to do with that?” He nodded towards the cocaine and Harvey#s jaw tightened for a long moment.  
  
“You know how hard it is to let go of the safety net.” Harvey frowned slightly and Mike watched him swallow hard. He wanted to pull him away and wrap him in his arms again, but this was the wrong Harvey for that. This was the Harvey that needed to take a baseball bat to Tanner's smug fucking face.  
  
“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me to, Harvey.” He hoped he heard the unspoken meaning there, hoped that Harvey understood exactly what he was saying. He looked over, frown clearing slightly, expression turning calculating.  
  
After a long moment, Harvey snatched up the bag and strode purposefully around the counter, back towards the bedroom. Mike followed him quietly, saying nothing as they ended up in the bathroom. Harvey was frozen, standing by the toilet with the bag opened between his thumb and fingers. Mike bit his tongue and silently egged him on, heart in his throat as he watched Harvey tip the bag up and empty the white powder into the bowl and flush it away.  
  
Mike tried to ignore the way his heart was hammering again, watching Harvey as he stared at the swirling water, seemingly lost in the movement.  
  
Without warning, Harvey whirled around and grabbed Mike by his t-shirt, tugging him across the small space and catching him with his hands to Mike's face, cradling his jaw as he kissed him hard. It was just a little desperate, just a little grateful and Mike did his best to keep breathing as he let Harvey angle his head to lick his mouth open and kiss him deeper. He curled his fingers into Harvey's t-shirt and just held on.  
  
The intensity eventually eased and Harvey pulled back, letting Mike gasp just a little for air. Harvey was still so close, fingers stroking his neck, thumbs rubbing against his jaw.  
  
“ _Thank-you_ , Mike.” Harvey breathed, his voice low. Mike turned his head a little and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth  
  
“You'd do the same for me.” He said gently, pulling back and forcing himself to put some distance between them. Harvey let him and Mike saw the moment his walls started to come back up – though he had a feeling that they were as insurmountable as they had been before.  
  
“I ordered in some Thai, if you wanted to stay.” Harvey let his hand drop from Mike's neck, tilting his head almost imperceptibly to one side. Mike didn't reply immediately. He watched Harvey, trying to judge the situation.  
  
“You want me to stay?” He asked finally, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. Harvey smirked and huffed a slight laugh.  
  
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Harvey shot him a look and Mike smiled.  
  
“I never turn down a free dinner.” He shrugged and headed back to the bedroom. He was in the process of sorting out his jeans when Harvey grabbed a handful of the back of his t-shirt and tugged him back through to the open plan living area.  
  
It was absurdly easy to fall into a comfortable dynamic, Harvey turning on the TV and telling Mike he better not talk through Star Trek. They sat on opposite couches to each other whilst they watched Kirk and Spock save the day again, waiting for the food to arrive.  
  
It seemed natural to Mike to get plates and drinks when Harvey went to pay at the door. When Harvey shot him a scathing look and said he wasn't stretching across the coffee table for food, it was the most obvious thing in the world for Mike to drop onto the couch next to Harvey. It seemed inconsequential that they were still in their underwear, that Harvey still had bite marks on his collar bones and the bottom of his neck.  
  
They didn't break away from the TV until the early morning, and Harvey refused to let Mike get a cab across town - _“What's the point? You'll have to come back for your bike tomorrow anyway.”_ \- so Mike grabbed a shower and borrowed some pajamas for the night. They ended up as they had earlier, but this time Mike couldn't resist settling back into Harvey's arms.  
  
He drifted to sleep easily, ignoring just how easily, and dreamt of nothing.  
  
He woke up late the next morning, shifting a little to a a kink from his shoulder and earning himself a grumble of disapproval from behind him. It took almost an hour to coax Harvey out of bed and it seemed perfectly normal to help him cook a late breakfast. They spoke a little, about Star Trek from the night before, Harvey mocking Mike's childlike manner of eating when he turned down anything more complex than scrambled eggs and bacon. Mike grinned and drained his coffee.  
  
The atmosphere shifted after that, as Mike made his way through the apartment gathering his clothes together and changing back into them. Harvey appeared at the bedroom door, watching him pull on his sneakers and Mike glanced up to find a serious expression back on his face.  
  
“I'm going to need you to fill me in on the Helton files before the meeting tomorrow, so I'll have Ray pick you up on his way here.” Harvey folded his arms across his chest and Mike fixed him with knowing look.  
  
“Sure thing.” Mike shot him a salute as he tugged his shoe on and got to his feet.  
  
“I'm not giving you a ride home though, so put your bike in the back – and you need to be ready at half six.” Harvey did his finest dead-panned expression, but smirked slightly at the irritation that Mike was almost certain had worked it's way to the surface.  
  
“You're a _monster_.” Mike muttered.  
  
“I know.” His words had the perfect southern twist and Mike couldn't help the snort of laughter as he headed past Harvey and made his way to the front door.  
  
“I'll see you tomorrow.” He did his best to keep himself calm as he glanced over his shoulder, pulling the door open. Harvey came to a stop a few feet away and leant against the wall. He nodded and Mike smiled slightly, letting himself out.  
  
He didn't hear the door close behind him until the elevator reached Harvey's floor.  
  
\--  
  
True to form, Ray was buzzing his apartment at half past six the following morning and, unusually, Mike was more or less ready. He scrambled down the stairs and out of his building, greeting Ray with a smile as he got in the back of the car.  
  
“Have a good weekend, Mike?” He asked casually, pulling out onto the street.  
  
“Oh, you know... just spent it recuperating.” Mike smiled slightly, looking out of the window.  
  
“I know what you mean. All ready to face the week?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He nodded and met Ray's eyes briefly in the mirror. They fell into a companionable silence then, making it to Harvey's building in a surprisingly short time.  
  
Harvey greeted Ray like it was any other Monday morning and he handed over a CD, filling the car with gentle blues music. He snapped his fingers at Mike and Mike promptly started reeling off information for that morning's meeting.  
  
The atmosphere was just a little tense, but Harvey seemed to relaxed the further they got without any word being said about the past weekend. He looked like he did on any other day, hair perfectly in place, three piece suit hugging him in all the right places. Mike bit back a slight smile when he noticed that his shirt collar was just a little higher than normal.  
  
Ray dropped them outside PearsonHardman and they crossed the plaza still discussing the Helton case. When they ended up on their own in the elevator, Mike couldn't quite hide the smile any more and did his best to disguise it by staring at his feet.  
  
“You have a crap poker face. Remind me to play you sometime.” Harvey said, shooting him a look in the mirrored surface of the doors. Mike looked up, a slow smirk creeping across his face. Harvey just rolled his eyes. “I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, rookie.”  
  
He seemed to be back to his usual self until they walked out of the elevator and came face to face with Jessica. Harvey stopped in his tracks, shoulders tensing. Mike took one look at the expression on Jessica's face and the way Harvey's had locked down, and cleared his throat.  
  
“Good morning, Ms. Pearson.” Her head whipped around, fixing him with a look that ordinarily would've sent him running in the opposite direction. He held his ground this time though. He watched as her expression changed as she shifted so she was bodily facing him now, rather than Harvey.  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Ross. I trust you had a good weekend?” Her eyes turned knowing and Mike shrugged.  
  
“Apart from having to watch some dodgy sixties sci-fi, it was pretty good.” Mike nodded, ignored the way Harvey pressed his lips together and internalised a crow of success when Jessica's mouth twitched slightly at the sides.  
  
“Very well.” She inclined her head slightly and turned away before glancing over her shoulder. “Harvey, I expect the Close and Daniels merger finished and on my desk by the end of the day.”  
  
Mike caught Harvey nodding and the two of them watched as she walked away. Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Harvey to turn to face him. He had an incredulous look on his face. He watched him for a moment before rolling his eyes and making a noise of disgust, striding away towards his office.  
  
Mike grinned and followed him down the corridor. No sooner had he walked into Harvey's office when he had three new case files shoved bodily at him. Mike clapped a hand up to his chest to stop the files from falling, his hand coming forcibly into contact with Harvey's. He resisted the intense urge to link their fingers together.  
  
Harvey looked him straight in the eye, clearly avoiding the empty desk on the other side of the wall. Mike saw something soften in his expression for a moment before the professionalism slammed straight back into place.  
  
“Come on, Mike. Work to do.” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, turning away and leaving Mike standing in the middle of his office. Mike glanced around him and sighed. He bit back a smile and turned on his heel.  
  
He left the office with Harvey sitting at his desk, back in his rightful place. As he walked away down the corridor, he was painfully aware of Harvey's gaze on his back. He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder and just turned into the bullpen, heading towards his cubicle. He dumped his bag on the floor, set the files to one side and dropped into the chair. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a can of Redbull.  
  
Cracking the lid, he turned on his computer and pulled a file towards him.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points if you pick up the one movie quote/reference I threw in there ;)


End file.
